Father's Day
by janesbiotch
Summary: I felt little guilty for not updating my other stories so here's a little something for the holiday. Can't say much more or it'll be given away. Enjoy.


When Teresa opened her eyes she knew immediately she was alone. The first thing she did was wipe the sleep from her eyes and stretch. She had been sleeping a lot more lately, and the truth was she didn't mind, not one bit. Glancing over at the calendar, she noticed the date and couldn't help but sigh. Patrick still had no idea how much their world had changed now. She found it funny how sometimes he saw everything and then at other times he saw nothing. She would let him go and do what he needed to do, but when he came back she would remind him of what was to come.

Patrick Jane had been walking for a long time. He hadn't wanted to leave Teresa but she was sleeping and something she needed right now was sleep. He knew she would understand. He had awakened so happy but then looked at the calendar and realized it was Father's Day. He hated this day, and he knew Lisbon hated it as well. Her father had chosen this day of celebration to put a bullet in his brain. He remembered the day she had told him. He had tried yet failed miserably at keeping the horror from his face. She said her father had spent the whole day with her and her brothers - reminding them of the person he used to be, and there were no outbursts or bouts of rage the whole day. She had found herself going to sleep thinking everything was going to be okay, but then when she woke up for a glass of water she found him holding her mother's picture in one hand, with the gun in his other hand. After Teresa told him that story, Patrick sincerely wished he could dig up her father and do him bodily harm.

Now his walk had brought him somewhere familiar and Patrick found himself in the park. Charlotte loved parks. He remembered many days of coming and sitting on this same bench in this same park and watching Charlotte as she chased the butterflies. She was so beautiful in her little white dress with the sun dancing on her golden locks. Just the thought of never seeing that again brought tears to his eyes and before he knew it, he was sobbing like a small child right there on the bench.

Teresa looked around the room and didn't know whether what she was doing was the dumbest thing ever or if it would be just what he needed. She knew how much Patrick hated Father's Day. She did too and had shared with him why, but he didn't judge her. It had taken her until the following year to find out that even before he lost Charlotte, he had hated Father's Day. It was only Charlotte's birth that restored his joy of the day. Father's Day was the last day he ever saw or heard from his mother. It was nothing so tragic as blowing out her brains, no, she simply waited for his father to take Patrick out for pancakes and then she had packed her bags and left. She did leave him a note, it told him that she loved him with all her heart, but she didn't love his father and could no longer live with him. Even though she knew he would never let her take his son, she still had to leave. His father would never have let her have him. Patrick hadn't seen or heard from her since then. In fact, he had no idea whether or not she was dead or alive. Something about that hurt Teresa, even more than losing her father.

As she stood thinking,she ran her bare qfoot across the satiny smooth, old oak floor and couldn't help but smile. Patrick Jane had really outdone himself. When he told her he was going to build them a house, she had to admit, in her mind she had given him only about a month. By then she thought he probably would hire others to do the building. In some ways she was right, but he only hired a small crew to help him do the heavy lifting. She was glad because he still had no idea what seeing him in a tight pair of jeans and a sweat stained T-shirt was doing to her! There was that very hot day in June. Let's just say if they weren't already having a baby, she was pretty sure there definitely would be a bun in the oven from that afternoon.

Their whole house was oak hardwood until you reached the nursery, then it was the softest carpet she had ever felt in her life. Her feet totally sank into the floor whenever she walked into the nursery. She loved having her morning glass of juice and staring out of the nursery window. It was a truly beautiful room, she knew their little one was going to feel loved and happy in it. Teresa glanced at her cellphone biting back the urge to call him. He needed this morning, and when he came home she would remind him that this day would no longer be sad for either of them.

When she turned around to go back to the kitchen the pain in her stomach made her cry out. As she hit the carpet of the nursery floor the last thing she remembered was that pomegranate juice was going to make one hell of a stain.

Patrick didn't really know how long he had been there blubbering on that bench until he looked up when he felt an arm on his shoulder. He looked up - right into the eyes of a young woman who had asked him what was wrong. When he told her, he thought he would see the familiar look of pity in the young woman's eyes, instead all he saw there was compassion. She pointed out the twin girls on the swings and told him they were hers. She also shared that before she had them she had lost a son prematurely. She then pointed out that he was still young and there was always time for him to have another child. Of course a new child wouldn't replace what he had lost, but she would help fill that void and help him make new memories. It was only in that minute did it dawn on him what he did have - he was going to be a dad again. He couldn't stop the smile from appearing on his face as he ran to his car.

He had stopped at her favorite bakery on the way back to their little cabin. He knew she was probably already on her third cup of juice and pancakes. He didn't know why but she craved pancakes and waffles. He had been on many night runs for pancakes and syrup. He didn't care though, he'd chop down a maple tree for the syrup, if she wanted it. He was going to be a dad!

"Teresa I'm back! I know you were probably upset when you woke up and I wasn't here. I was just going on autopilot this morning. I thought about what today was, but not about what today was..." he stopped when he didn't hear her.

"Lisbon?" he questioned.

When she didn't answer he started to panic. Where the hell was she? She wasn't supposed to be going anywhere alone. Even though he knew it was ridiculous, he didn't want her going anywhere alone now. She hadn't though, he saw her car outside and she wasn't anywhere to be found. There was only one more room to check and he should've known, she couldn't stop going into the nursery.

When he opened the door he thought he'd die.

First thing - he saw the red. On the special soft carpet that she loved so much were little splotches of red. They led all the way to where she was lying on the floor. Her pink nightgown was stained in the front, and she had her hands covering her face. He could see her chest jumping and he could hear her sobs. Her gut wrenching sobs.

"God no!" he thought as he ran to her side.

"Teresa!" he shouted pulling her to his chest.

Teresa Lisbon couldn't believe what had just happened. She had come into the nursery and put her surprise on the wall. They hadn't been able to see the sex of the baby at the last ultrasound but she had secretly gone and seen the doctor again. She had a crystal clear view of her little boy's package and she finally got the decals to put his name up on the wall.

She had grabbed her juice again, not even thinking about calling Jane. Then it happened. Her little monster chose that exact moment to kick the living crap out of her. Jane never believed her when she told him that the little monster was already trying to kick himself out of the womb. He had never been around to witness it. When she lost her footing the last thing she thought before she fell was: Jane had warned her unceasingly about all that Pomegranate juice. He was going to be so angry with her.

She knew she really should get up, but all she could do was lie there and half cry, half laugh at herself. Once again Jane's little soccer player was going for the goal and no one was there. Wylie almost saw it once but then he recanted when everyone else came around. She thanked her lucky stars because this had happened here with the carpet instead of other parts of the house, things might have been a little more dangerous. She was about to get up when she felt herself being snatched from her comfortable position.

This couldn't be happening to him. There wasn't really that much blood, and maybe, just maybe if he got her to the hospital right now everything would be okay, he just had to get her to calm down. He just had to, oh god...

"Lisbon..." he sobbed looking into her eyes.

Teresa Lisbon took in her surroundings and to her surprise and horror, she saw what might be going on in the mind of her husband. She looked up and knew she had gotten this right. He was frozen. Just looking at the little red splotches on the carpet and she knew. He wasn't seeing juice, he wasn't seeing juice at all.

"Jane look at me sweetheart. Look at me - I need you to focus."

"I… we… we have to go to the hospital. You're bleeding! Are you losing the baby." He stuttered trying to pull her towards the door. He was panicking. Which was something new she had only recently learned about him. He suffered from panic attacks. She didn't know how she didn't know this, but that's what marriage was for - right - figuring it out."

"Jane it's okay. It's not blood, it's juice. "Button" and I are alright." She told him soothingly.

"Juice?" he looked at her for the first time.

"Yes juice, the baby and I are okay. I came in to surprise you and I slipped. I had the juice. I'm so sorry about the carpet."

"Juice." He asked once more for reassurement.

"Yes, your son and I are just fine."

"Thank god!" he shouted pulling her into a hug.

She didn't mind the squeeze as he got himself together. She could only imagine what was going through his head.

"Wait - son? He smiled.

"Yea, you're going to have a son." She smiled passing him the ultrasound picture.

"Patrick meet Liam." She smiled using the name they had chosen together.

"Happy Father's Day, Daddy!" she smiled.


End file.
